Family of Blood
by Dancing Darkness
Summary: 4th part in the Unexpected series. The sky is on fire and Family of Blood is out to kill him, what can Martha do to get the Doctor to change back? What doesn't he understand? What would she and John do without him?


I'm back again! This is becoming fairly regular isn't it? Well here's** part four of the 'unexpected'** series! If you haven't read the first three I suggest you do, it just helps with understanding of this story. It's designed to be a _'what if' John had been around when the Doctor turned human_? Essentially the same series of events with a new twist! Sort of like a missing episode or scene...Hope you like it!

For those of you who inquired as to whether the Doctor would have a relationship with Martha the answer: Probably not. I don't really think about that side of it, it's more of an exploration into Martha's unrequited love and her love for the Doctor's son.

Please read and review! Support my starving soul!

Enjoy!

Allons-y

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**Family of Blood**

"You're this Doctor's companion, can't you help? What exactly do you do for him?" John Smith bellowed across the solid oak table, hands gripping the surface tightly. He was dressed smartly, having just come from the village dance. In the flickering candle light he still looked handsome.

But this man wore the Doctor's face, no more. This man was just John Smith, a simple human with simple slow thoughts. He was useless in this situation. A situation which was fast seeming hopeless, they were trapped. Utterly trapped in a terrible place. "Not without the watch," Martha replied hopelessly, looking at the floor. Why had it all gone so wrong?

"Then why does he need you?" John Smith snapped angrily.

Martha jerked to look at him. She could see fear in his eyes, honest and plain fear. It was strange. She'd never, ever seen fear in his eyes before. Well maybe once before. But never fear for himself. For a second all that they had ever done flashed before her eyes, every planet, every star and every single galaxy. Every danger and every triumph. She saw him smiling, saw John running ahead of them with his wild hair. She smiled wryly, "because he gets lonely," she said simply.

"And that's what you want me to become?" the man asked incredulously.

She looked at him helplessly, what more could she say? How could she convince him of the necessity of his actions? How could she tell him to die? Well he wasn't really dying; John Smith was more like a self the Doctor wished he could be...

But that didn't matter. What mattered was a small terrified boy in the twenty first century. A boy probably desperate for news of his father who'd abandoned him to a friend to save him.

She jumped, as did everyone else in the room, at a sudden knocking on the cottage door. Slowly she turned to look at it. The door looked highly intimidating obscured by the night shadows as it was. She tentatively approached it.

"What if it's them?" Nurse Joan Redfern whispered.

Martha turned to look at the two and she'd never felt more alien because in that moment she felt humans useless and easily scared. Was this how she'd once been? "I'm not an expert but I don't think scarecrows knock," she replied and opened the door.

There he was, the small blonde boy Timothy Latimer and when Martha saw what he held she had never been happier to see him. There was the watch in the palm of his hand and if a watch could look innocent and mischievous, this one certainly did. "I think I'm to give this to you," he said breathlessly, he'd clearly run the whole way from the school.

She let him in at once, taking the watch with relief.

John Smith stared at it as if it would bite him of course. How could she have expected any less? Stubborn as an alien and stubborn as a human, it brought a smile to her face how some things never change. She tried to convince him but the annoying, irritating stubborn man would not budge.

"It was always going to end though," she cried in exasperation. "The Family has a limited life span, three months and they die. That's why they need you." She turned to gaze out into the night fearfully; they just didn't have time for this.

"And your job was to execute me?" She turned back to him at this. Well it was she supposed. But not execute, that's not how she saw it.

But what could she say?

They all jumped at a sudden merry ringing, a tone coming from the front pocket of her apron. She rummaged around and pulled out her phone, a phone she had long forgotten she had. Her eyes widened when they saw who was calling.

"What is that?" asked Joan Redfern, there was a look of fear and wonder in her eyes.

"It's like a compressed telephone," Martha replied flipping it open and pressing it to her ear. "What is it?" she asked.

"Is dad there?" a familiar voice inquired, voice afraid.

Martha felt her insides freeze. How could she explain to John what was happening? For all that intelligence he was still a three, nearly four, year old boy. They hadn't had time to do much but the Doctor's fear for his son had eclipsed all. The boy was too young to change as the Doctor had so they'd hidden him at Sarah Jane's and made sure the Family followed them. She looked up at John Smith thoughtfully, "Yes, he's here," she replied slowly.

"Something's wrong, you don't sound right," the boy accused. "Can I talk to him?"

Damn his observational skills! "He's a bit tied up and can't talk right now ok?" she tried, doing her best to keep her tone level.

"Please! I've been good!" John was desperate.

"John-" There were looks of shock as she said that particular gem of information.

"Please!"

She sighed. She could never so no to him. Especially with him so scared, "it'll have to be quick," she warned. "Hold on a second." She pressed the phone to her shoulder to mute the sound and levelled cool eyes at the human John Smith. She didn't care if he was really the Doctor, he was not getting away with terrifying a little boy any more than he already was.

"You listen to me," Martha said slowly, "all you have to do is act. Just tell him it's okay, tell him you're fine and you'll see him soon. All you have to do is talk and talk. All you have to do is lie. Easy for a human right? And then hand it back to me." She waited until he nodded in comprehension before handing him the phone. "If you hurt him, so help me, I'll pound you flat!"

Gingerly he took it and held it to his ear as she had, "hello?" he asked tentatively. His eyes widened and shot to her, "yes I'm fine. Everything's fine." There was a pause as John said something she couldn't hear and John Smith nodded. "Yes, I'll be home soon. I promise. Alright, goodnight." He pulled the phone away and looked at it as if it were possessed. Shakily he handed the phone back to her. "Who was that?" he asked after a long moment.

"That was John Smith. He's the Doctor's son, nearly four," Martha smiled as she took the phone, smiled wistfully.

"He has a son?"

Martha turned to Joan Redfern, "Yes. All we had time to do was hide him so that the Family couldn't track him. They'll kill John if they could. They'd kill him and use his life-force to fuel themselves." Those words seemed to truly affect the nurse she could see it in the woman's eyes.

There was a silence and then Timothy Latimer's damning prophecy. The boy was dead serious, you could see it in his eyes, and he had a message to tell. "He's like fire and ice and rage," he said slowly, walking closer to John Smith. "He's like the night, and the storm in the heart of the sun."

Martha smiled, that sounded like him. That was her Doctor.

"He's ancient and forever. He burns at the center of time and he can see the turn of the universe. And... he's wonderful." The boy's words were straight and true, spoken from the heart despite the protestations of John Smith the human. The words would not be denied and they needed to be said.

But Martha could see that John Smith was still veering away from changing. She looked around desperately for anything to help her. Outside a roaring began as the Family began to bomb the village, fire shot into the sky and she could hear people screaming.

John Smith and the others looked outside in panic, something needed to be done. Eyes full of fear her turned back to her. "You knew this all along and yet you watched while Nurse Redfern and I-"

She needed to head this off before even started, of that Martha was sure. "I didn't know how to stop you," she insisted, looking deep into his eyes. He needed to change, why couldn't he see that! "He gave me a list of things to watch out for, but that wasn't included." She floundered helplessly. Why couldn't she say the right thing?

The man's eyes widened, "Falling in love? That didn't even occur to him?"

What else could she say? "No."

"Then what sort of man is that? And now you expect me to die?" the man shook his head at her even as he backed away from the watch.

Well, it was now or never, "People are dying and they need him! I need him! Because you've got no idea what he's like, I've only just met him, but he is everything to me and he doesn't even look at me but I don't care. Because I love him, I love him and John to bits." It all came out in a rush. "I hope to God he doesn't remember me saying this," she laughed hopelessly.

She turned to him again, shaking her head. _"What sort of man?"_ she mimicked frustrated. A long awkward moment passed, all eyes were on her. "He thought he'd never fall in love again, I think. Sometimes I say something and he'll look at me and I know he's not seeing me, he never will." She looked away.

"Who?"

Martha looked at Joan Redfern and smiled sadly, "but you already know her name. Her name was Rose."

All eyes turned to the journal in Joan Redfern's arms.

"Even in this state you could never forget her," she sighed.

There was more silence and the bombing grew closer. Martha closed her eyes and prayed to God that the man would just change! She knew it was selfish but she needed the Doctor. They all needed the Doctor.

In the darkness the bombs fell on.

----

John ran though the small village very, very quickly. He knew he didn't have a lot of time before Martha or his dad found out he was gone. He ran through the cobbled lanes as a blur, many people pausing to stare as the small child raced past. He almost slipped as he moved to dive behind a bush as his dad emerged from the cottage. It was vital that he was not seen. No matter what. He could not be seen!

His small dark eyes watched his dad stride down the road. There was a falter in his step, a halt in his gait. His eyes were down cast and that normally untameable hair seemed subdued. She'd said no then. John had known she would but his dad wouldn't be dissuaded. He sighed and waited until his dad was well out of earshot.

Slowly he approached the old wooden door and pressed his ear to it. On the other side he could hear sobbing. He paused to think about what he was doing. Was this really such a good idea? He shook his head, prepared himself and reached up to unclasp the latch. The door opened with a creak and he could hear the person on the other side hastily move across the room.

He stumbled into what looked like a kitchen and his eyes fell upon a woman in her middle years. Her hair was blonde and she wore a matron's clothing. The lines around her eyes were kind and he knew she would have a gentle smile. No wonder his father, even when human, had picked her. She was beautiful.

She looked at him and he looked at her for a moment, he could see confusion. "Hello there," she said kindly after a moment. "I'm Nurse Redfern, are you looking for the Cartwright family?"

They must have been the people that lived here before. "No, I'm not," he said coming closer, a bright grin on his face.

"Are you lost then?" she asked. He noticed she still clutched his father's journal to her breast.

"No, I'm not lost. May I have a glass of water please?" He took a seat at the table, maybe this would calm her down.

"Of course," she replied, pouring him one from a nearby pitcher and setting it before him.

"Thank you." He drank deeply and thought about what he was going to say. There was no easy way to say it, even for his advanced mind.

"If you are not lost then why are you here?" The question was kind but he got the impression that she was trying to get rid of him.

"I was looking for you, Nurse Redfern," he told her, fiddling with the cuff of his dress shirt nervously.

"Oh? Is someone injured up at the school?" Immediately her tone had changed to one of concern and caring, yes he liked this woman.

"No, it's nothing like that. I'm not sure how to say this at all," he babbled, looking to the side and furrowing his brows. "I guess it's best to blunt isn't it?"

She chuckled, "I often find that the case."

He smiled for her even though he knew he would break her heart. "Well, I guess I'm here to say thank you then. My name is John Smith and I want to thank you for looking after my dad."

Her face visibly fell and he could see tears. "You are the Doctor's son then?" she managed to get out. "Does he know where you are?"

John snorted, "of course he doesn't! If he did he'd murder me. I had to hide until he left, you know, and giving Martha the slip was not easy at all," he grumbled.

She smiled tearfully at his humour, "you sound just like my John Smith," she told him.

"I imagine I do. I'm sad that you aren't coming with us," he knew he sounded regretful.

"John Smith is dead, the Doctor only wears his face," she replied, looking away to hide her tears.

"Well you could say that," he sighed.

She looked at him sharply.

"John Smith is real, make no mistake. I mean I didn't get my name from nowhere and it isn't just an alias my dad uses. John Smith is a part of him, the part he always wished he could be. Having an ordinary life with a wife and children and a house and a garden and a job is what he's always wanted in a way. What he, I, can never have," he finished wistfully."You could say that John Smith is the part of my dad that yearns for this life. There's a person like that in me too. Oh I'm babbling aren't I? I got that from dad. I do it when I'm nervous. I expect John Smith did it too."

"Surely you can just go home?"

He looked at her and he knew she gasped at his sadness. "There is no home, not for us. Our home is gone, I've never even seen it." He looked at his glass of water. "I would've liked you as my mum. I don't have one you see. He doesn't talk about that either." John scrubbed a sleeve across his face to hide the beginnings of tears. He hadn't learned to hide them yet, like his dad did.

"What happened?" Joan asked gently, moving to place a hand on his shoulder.

"We don't talk about it much," John replied, looking away. "She's just gone and there's only dad and me. He looks at me sometimes and I can feel him crying as if I was the one who was sad. Crying inside where no one will ever see." John's eyes unfocused with tears again. He scrubbed them away for a second time.

"Are you crying?" The question was still just as gentle.

"No! I'm fine, just fine!" he muttered.

"It's a funny thing isn't it? Here we both are crying for things that can never be," she smiled at him.

Yes, this woman was amazing and wonderful, he thought. He liked her and could see why part of his dad did too. "I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "I didn't mean to make you cry, I just wanted to say thanks!"

"Don't be you silly boy," she laughed shakily and patted him on the shoulder. "Now I'm sure your father is missing you and you'll be in trouble," she told him sternly.

His eyes widened. "Oh yeah! I've gotta go. Right now!" He scrambled to his feet and nearly fell over just managing to right himself using a nearby chair.

"You look just like him" she said suddenly. "Just like John Smith."

John turned from where he was on his way to the door. "Well he is my dad. Thank you again, Nurse Redfern."

Then he left quickly and ran all the way to the TARDIS. As he did so he did his best not to hear her tears echoing in his mind. He was sad with her too. Sad for things that could never be, should never be. He didn't need a mum, he didn't! He had Martha and Sarah Jane and...and it would've been nice. But some things needed to be said about some things that would never be. It was a shame but he couldn't change it. Selfish as it was he wouldn't give his dad up for the world, he wouldn't let him change back. They would travel together forever.

It was that thought that brought a smile to his face as he ran all the way home into the friendly arms of Martha Jones and the warm, long arms of his father and their wonderful time machine.

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Well? What did you think? I tried to write both sides of the opinion and explore John's desire for a mother (which I think he'd have). Did I do alright?

Please review!

Be on the lookout for Part 5, ominously named the _Funeral_!

Love you all!

- D


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